Every time you tell yourself it’s the last, you end up right back here. Watching. Obeying. Giving in. It’s not just a habit anymore it’s who you are. The sound of my voice, the look in my eyes, the way I own your attention… it pulls you deeper every single time. You chase that release, but what you really crave is control. My control. Every edge, every tremble, every breath belongs to me now. You’re addicted to the feeling of surrender, to the cycle you can’t escape. You call it weakness. I call it devotion. You are a Jerkaholic. And I am the reason why.